


Never Let Me Go

by corn_nut_to_rook_seven



Category: BBC Sherlock
Genre: Alcohol Abuse, Angst, Blood, Caretaking, Drug Abuse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Severich, F/M, Graphic suicide scenes, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Read at Your Own Risk, Richard is Suicidal, Romance, Self Harm, Severe TW, Severin has to take care of him, guilt tripping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2019-07-04 11:50:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15840711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corn_nut_to_rook_seven/pseuds/corn_nut_to_rook_seven
Summary: Richard Brook endured the same things that James experienced at home. Some things were small. Some things were monstrous.James becomes a dangerous, feared criminal who kills those who deserved it.Richard becomes a soft-spoken actor who punishes himself daily for what happened to him.When Severin gets assigned as the actor's personal suicide watch, the sniper is not happy about it, and neither is Richard, for that matter. But people can change.





	1. Ambulance

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter has a suicide attempt, which is rather graphic and could be potentially triggering to those of you uncomfortable with the topics of self harm and suicide, and these same themes will continue to be present in the fic, along with depression, anxiety, past abuse, and others.
> 
>  
> 
> ***READ AT YOUR OWN RISK***
> 
>  
> 
> If you do plan to continue reading, please enjoy and PLEASE leave a comment below and tell me what you think!

“I’m gonna be on... suicide watch?” Severin stared incredulously at his boss, tapping his foot on the floor as he sat in the chair in front of the boss’s desk.

  
  


“You up for it?” Moriarty asked. “It’s twice your normal pay, and you’re really just hanging out with him. All day, every day. Your brother will pick up the slack back in the field.”

 

“So.. what? I won’t get to go on any more jobs?” Severin rose from his chair, his jaw clenching. “You want to.. to take that away from me? I get to be some kind of live-in nurse? Is that supposed to make me feel better? You want me to just fucking sit around your brother’s house and follow him like a dog so he doesn’t tie a noose around his neck when I blink for too long?”

  
  


Shit, he shouldn’t have said that. 

  
  


Before he knew it, there was a blade that felt awfully blunt at his throat, the tip pricking at the skin right above his jugular. “If I thrust this half an inch in, you’ll bleed out all over the floor,” Moriarty said, his voice soft as he spoke as if he was discussing items on a grocery list. “You never.. ever... talk about my brother like that. Or I won’t hesitate for one second to kill yours.”

 

Severin stood still, not wanting to dig the blade further into his skin. He didn't want to watch scarlet spurt out all over the place as he choked on his own blood. That would be an undignified way to die.

  
  


And a stupid way.

  
  


He took the blade away, which Severin found out was his red pocket knife, his boss simpering to himself. “The right answer is, you are up for it,” Jim continued, shoving a key into Severin's fist, then stepped back from him. “You start today. Off with you, then. Your vein’s popping outta yer feckin’ forehead, go on.”

  
  


The soldier grimaced at his boss, then turned on his heel and left the office, making sure to slam the door behind him. 

  
  
  


His boss drove him batshit crazy sometimes, honestly. Also, to go as far as to threaten Sebastian? One of the only people that fucking psychopath seemed to give a single shit about?

  
  
  


He huffed to himself, trudging outside to hail a cab. He tugged his coat farther around himself, trying to shield himself from the biting cold.

  
  


Why the fuck was it so slow?

  
  


The cab ride to the house was uneventful. Actually, Severin loathed it. The driver was boring, the smell was rather musty, too. At least it was clean, no vomit spatter anywhere, no mystery stains on the seats.

  
  


Arriving at the flat was so fucking relieving, anyways. He paid the cabbie the correct amount before stepping off and unlocking the front door, then stepping inside.

  
  


“Richard?” he called out, looking around the place. It was tidy, yet comfortable, very much like a home should be. “Richard?” 

 

Where the hell was the little clone? Maybe he’d gone to the store. Or he was hiding from the scary man coming to visit him.

  
  


He wouldn’t put it past him.

  
  


“Richard Brook!” he tried again, his voice rising as he continued calling his name. Still no answer. He began to wander through the house, military boots hitting the hardwood floor with a full thump as he walked.

 

Damn, this guy really kept a clean place. All the molding was perfectly clean and white, and the tables were shiny with wood polisher. Even the couches looked brand new, worn and sat on, yet still perfect somehow.

  
  


Just from taking a look around the place, Brook didn’t seem suicidal.

  
  


He walked around some more, exploring the professional looking kitchen with its rainbow colored utensils and a red mixer, apparently for baking. 

  
  


Why was he exploring the house again? Wasn’t he supposed to be looking for Brook? Right.

 

He quickly unlaced his boots, suddenly considering Richard’s clean floors, then left them by the door before continuing through the hallway. No answer, not even a little peep.

 

But then there was the running of water, and Severin frowned to himself. So he  _ was _ here. Then why the fuck wasn’t he answering when he was called? Disobedient little fucker, he was. 

 

“Richard?” he tried. This would be the last time before he would start barging into rooms, he swore it. He got no reply back, but he heard a sharp inhale, and that was enough for Severin to try the door handle. It didn’t budge as he tried twisting it, and he growled in frustration. “Open the damn door.”

 

“Can’t,” Severin heard, and despite expecting an exact replica of Moriarty’s voice, he got a softer version, one that sounded frightened. “I’m busy. Go, please, c-can you tell my brother I’m.. f-fi-fine. Promise.”

 

“Can’t do that if I don’t see you for myself. Now open up.”

 

“No, please, just..” Sev heard a slam inside of the bathroom, and then a choked sob. “Go, please! Get out!”

  
  


That didn’t sit right with Severin. 

  
  


“Sorry,” Severin said, backing up from the door a little, then charging forward and slamming his foot against the wood, watching it break and swing open violently. 

  
  


He was met with the sight of a practical clone of Moriarty, his legs slightly bent and his knees touching the wooden cabinets under the sink. His legs must have given out.

 

His hands were being held under running water, the water tinted a dark pink. His wrists had been slashed open, and there he was. Bleeding out. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. He went behind the brunette, turning the water off and starting to tug him away from the sink.

 

“What did you do?!” he demanded, trying to restrain Richard as he started to thrash in Severin’s hold, fresh crimson blood starting to run from the deep gashes in both of his wrists, sliding down his arms and stain the edges of his rolled up sweater sleeves.

 

“Let me go!” Brook cried, not wanting to be held against Severin’s chest like he was, but the sniper held him tight, grabbing a face towel and holding his arms high above his head.  _ “Stop! Stop it, please let me go, lemme go, lemme go, l’mmego!”  _

__

 

Severin practically dragged the man out of the bathroom, stopping outside of it and throwing the towel over one of his wrists, putting pressure on it. “Stop that right now,” he snapped. “Jesus, you idiot, you bloody idiot!”

 

Richard had tears running down his cheeks, the area around his eyes and his nose pink and swollen, as if he’d been crying for some time now. “Where’s a phone?” Sev asked. 

 

“K-ki-kitchen,” Brook sniffled, and he was tugged to his feet and dragged there too, his legs shaky and continuing to give out under him, to Severin’s dismay. The soldier simply pulled him along till they got to the phone, and he held Richards wrists in one hand before he grabbed the phone. 

 

He slid down to sit on the floor, Richard’s back against his chest as the actor began to shiver, his head against Severin’s shoulder while the blonde punched in the 9 three times and heard the operator answer. 

  
  


Everything was a blur after that. He’d set the phone down on the floor, then pressed his thumbs to Richard’s wrists, trying to stop the blood flow. He remembered Richard apologizing, his speech becoming slurred before he stopped talking altogether, before he gasped. 

 

 

“I c-can’t.. breathe,’ he wheezed, and Severin was glad when he heard the ambulance pulling up into the driveway. “Can’t.. br.. breathe..” The EMTs walked in with a gurney, and good god, Severin was all full of blood, and Richard was shaking, tears still streaming down his face, yet he looked paler than when Sev first got there. Christ. He let them take him, only able to watch as they tried stopping the bleeding. 

  
  
  


If he screwed up the job on the first day, he’d be  _ so _ fired.


	2. Blunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severin yells at Richie :’) Because everyone needs angst in their life.

The entire time Richard was in the hospital, Severin didn’t speak a word. Not really, at least. He’d occasionally greet Rich whenever he came into the room to check up on him, or answer him with a word or three. But he never really managed to hold a conversation with the man. It always turned into something awkward, or into something that would lead back to the incident that landed them in this hospital in the first place.

  
By the time the hospital deemed Richard fit for release and Severin drove them both home, everything was even more awkward. They didn't speak for the entire ride, or even when they got inside. It wasn't until Severin opened Richard's fridge to look for some alcohol that he said anything.   


  
"Are you honestly _daft_ ?" he asked, turning to see the actor sitting himself down on the couch. "Well? Are you?"   


  
"I don't know what you mean," Richard began, his voice trembling as if he would cry. God, that was so fucking _infuriating_.

 

  
"You... you...slitting your fucking wrists and doing this to yourself. Doing this to us. I thought I was going to meet you for the first time with a handshake and a smile, not with you.. holding your damn wrists over the fucking sink and bleeding everywhere! How selfish can you possibly be?!”

 

  
Richard stayed silent, obviously not expecting this angry outburst from the man who saved his life a few days ago.  

  
  
"Oh," he finally said, looking down at his thighs and feeling as if he looked anywhere else he would burst into tears. "I see."

 

Severin stayed silent as he watched the actor, who seemed to be staring at his legs, not even his breath making a sound. The stillness that began to settle in the room was intense, yet neither of them said anything to lift it. After some time, Richard seemed to relax a little more, save for his shoulders. But he was still tense, and a feeling of general began to engulf him, but now Severin didn't know what to do about the situation.

 

"Look, I'm... I didn't mean to snap like that, I just--" Severin began.

 

"No, you're right," Richard interrupted. "You're right. That was insensitive of me to do. And it was selfish. And it..." He cut himself off there, then covered his face with his hands, his voice dropping to a whimper. "I'm s-sorry, I’m s-sorry! I don't know wh-what I was thinking..” He sounded like a dog that had been kicked, and Severin didn’t know whether to feel angry or sorry.

 

"Hey, no, don't, it's okay. I just got angry, that’s all.” Severin sat down beside the actor, yet Richard shot up out of his seat, not wanting to be close to Severin.

  


"No, you're right," Richard said. "It's not okay. It's not... not okay. Oh... I need to go out, I need to leave for a bit, I hope that's alright with you. I‘m so sorry, again." He ran to the front door, grabbing his jacket and thrusting it on, looking almost violent in his actions. In fact, he looked terrified, as if Severin were some wild animal that would tear him to shreds at any moment.

 

"No, hold on, Richard, come on now," Severin said, getting up and reaching over to grab the actor's arm, but Richard drew himself away before he got the chance to.  "I'm sorry. I really am."

  


Richard pulled on his sneakers and seized his scarf, then tugged the door open and left into the cold night, leaving Severin there without another word.

  


Where was he going? There was nowhere for him to be, nowhere to go. Moriarty had shown Sev the file on the actor, his list of friends, his usual safe spaces and favorite places to visit. Now, where the hell was it?

 

Severin grabbed his coat too, pulling his boots on before thrusting himself out the door, slamming it shut behind him and whirling around, hoping to catch a glimpse of that dark head of hair nested in that red scarf. He should have known better than to think that he was going to get that lucky, though.

 

A stupid thought crossed his mind about calling CPS, and he laughed dryly to himself, waving down a cab and fishing his phone out of his pocket, praying he would be able to locate the little bugger.

 

Don’t panic now. He knew he couldn’t have gone far. And even if he could have, Richard didn’t seem the type to even leave the city.

 

 

He’d find him. No matter what it took.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short but I already have the third chapter half done. Thanks.


	3. Apols

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apologies

It had been at least half an hour and £30 that Severin could barely afford to lose before he managed to track Richard. He finally found him, sitting on the grass in the park, cross-legged with his head drooping slightly. Finsbury Park no less. The little shit.

 

Sev paid the fare, then walked up to the grass where Richie was sitting and lowered himself down next to him, the knees of his trousers soaking up the dew of the grass. Neither of them spoke a word for a while, silence screaming between them. In the quietness, Severin entertained himself by watching the billowing cloud forming in front of his mouth with every exhale, and he knew it couldn’t have been more than a degree outside. It was fucking freezing outside and here was Richard Brook, the famous actor, throwing a  _ shit fit _ .

 

Just when it seemed like they were going to simply sit in silence for all of eternity, Richard finally spoke up.

 

_ My little problem child _ , Severin thought.

 

“I think I want someone else to be my caretaker,” he murmured in that soft voice of his, his breath barely making a whisper of a cloud. Severin felt indignant for some reason and frowned, then cleared his throat, about to ask why before he was interrupted. “I need someone who understands what I’m going through. And what I think, and what I feel, and why I feel it.”

 

Severin couldn't help but scoff at that, realizing it sounded like something those teenagers from secondary school would say. The same who would post ‘we aren’t suicidal, we’re just angels wanting to go home’ pictures on Facebook. A pathetic cry for help that wasn't even needed. “Listen, Richie… I think what you’re looking for is a mind reader, and if that’s what you’re after, then that’s fine by me, but just know that I can't do that for you,” Sev said honestly, and as soon as he saw Richard's eyes widen in shock, he realized that he’d said the wrong thing. 

 

“I-I... I don’t need a _ fucking mind reader! _ ” Richard snapped, catching the attention of quite a few passersby, and a feeling of something akin to vertigo and desperation filled like fluid in Severin's stomach in response to being shouted at in public. He hated making a scene, and unfortunately, that's exactly what Richard deemed appropriate to do at this very moment. Not that Severin expected anything less.

 

“Hey, lower your fucking voice,” he warned him, and he grabbed for Richard's hand, hoping that would snap him back into reality and make him shut the hell up. Unfortunately, that was also the wrong thing to do.

 

“Get  _ off  _ of me, you jerk!” Richard demanded, jerking his hand away from the sniper's grip. “I know my brother means well, but he doesn’t know a damn thing about emotions, especially mine! And neither do you, apparently! You're just here because you have to be. You're here because my brother decided it'd be easier to keep an eye on me this way.”

 

“ _ Richard _ ,” Severin scolded, his voice low and threatening, yet Richie didn’t even seem to take notice of the tone, and he stood up and glared down at the ex-soldier, and not that Severin would ever admit it to himself or Richard, but the look the actor gave him was just the tiniest bit scary.

 

“I’m getting someone else to take care of me! I don’t need you! I don’t need your harsh tone or your arrogant little ideas! And I’ll be  _ damned  _ if I have to put up with your ignorant words or your stupid smug smile any longer!” Richard screamed, his voice wavering now, and all at once, Severin felt sorry for him and suddenly understood everything.

 

Richard wasn’t a brat. He was more like...a lost child who didn’t know how to react. Someone who didn’t want to accept the fact that they were broken and merely taped back together and thrown into society without so much as a second thought. That fact was enough to make his chest ache, and he felt absolutely guilty now. Severin had scared him, he'd made him feel bad, and he'd ridiculed him, all in one day. How much of an asshole could he possibly be?

  
  


“I hate you!” Richard continued, big doe eyes shining with tears. “I hate you, I hate you,  _ I hate you! _ ”

  
  


Severin stood up nice and slow, not wanting to startle Richard, then took the actor's hands and drew his smaller form towards his own larger chest. Rich clearly got nervous, trying to pull himself away, but Severin knew he had to be firm with him. He cloaked his arms around him, and he just hugged him. Sev wholeheartedly expected Richie to just shove him away and continue to tell him what a dick he was, but he didn’t. Rich just pulled the sniper closer, and he buried his face in his chest, letting full-fledged sobs escape from his throat, his usually-soft voice muffled by my shirt.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Richard bawled, and Severin just hushed him, stroking that feather soft hair while the brunette's slender fingers curled into Severin's shirt and tugged the material towards himself, burying his face into his shirt to the point where Severin was worried that he’d suffocate himself.

 

“Hey, hey there,” Severin whispered softly, pushing his nose into his hair and sighing. “I’m here. I’m right here for you. I’m sorry I was so rude to you, Richie.”

 

Richard didn’t answer him; all he could do was hiccup, catching his breath as best as he could while his nose was still buried in Severin’s shirt, and eventually, he forced himself to pull his face away, his eyes swollen and his nose red from his crying, his lungs still attempting to take in air.

 

“No," Richard said, attempting to clear his throat properly. "I don't... think you're the one that... should be apologizing. I should be the one..." Tears began to fall down his cheeks again, hot rivers dripping down his cheeks, and he quickly wiped them away with the sleeve of his sweater.

 

"It's alright," Severin reassured him, holding him while Richard shook his head in protest. "It's okay. I should be the one apologizing. I was being a complete asshole, and you were right. It's okay, Richie, it really is... you can let it out, let it all out."

 

Both men stood there together for a little while, Severin just holding the young actor in his arms, gently rubbing his shoulder blades in an attempt to soothe him, and eventually, Richie pushed him away, rubbing the tears from his cheeks with the heels of his hands.

 

"Oh god, oh Jesus Christ," Richard whimpered, still looking down as if he were ashamed to look Severin in the eye. Sev knew he would feel the same way. He knew he'd feel like a complete fool. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry about that. That was..."

 

"It was fine, Richard," Severin reassured him. "It was fine. Don't try and sweep it away, okay? It's alright to cry. I just didn't really know the extent of this... I think I let my bullheadedness get in the way and I really screwed up, didn't I?" Richard nodded, hands shaking slightly, and Severin let an amused laugh bubble out of him. "See? You're being honest with me, and I really admire that."

 

"Do you?" Richard asked, wiping his eyes again to erase the remaining evidence of his crying away.

 

"Of course. Now let's get out of here. It's freezing out here, and it also feels like there are ice crystals forming in my legs." Richard laughed breathily at that, his red cheeks plump with a smile. Sev took one of Richard's hands, lacing their fingers together, and he pulled him along, fully knowing that Richard's eyes were probably as wide as saucers.

 

He walked with him, hailing a cab for the both of them and getting them both inside, all while never letting go of Richard's hand. They got back home, and once they got inside, Severin wrapped the actor up in a soft blanket and made him some tea. Oolong tea too, which Severin hated, but like hell he was going to say anything about that to Richard.

 

Richard drank his tea without a fuss, leaning back against the couch while shivering in his wet clothes from earlier. Severin immediately went to fetch him some new clothes, despite Richard's protests, and came back with some fuzzy pajamas.

 

Anyone who said Richard Brook did not look like the most adorable thing in his blue fleece pajamas was kidding themselves. Sev made sure he was warm under his blanket with his tea and his book, and all at once he began to feel relief wash through his shoulders. Everything was better, everything would be okay.

 

And when Richard had finished his tea and had tired of his book, he lay his head down in Severin's lap, clearly feeling safe (and exhausted) enough to snuggle close and fall asleep here. Severin's fingers found their way into his hair, carding through it and petting him as if he were a dog. Richard seemed to enjoy it nonetheless, so Severin didn't stop. He simply continued his movements until the stress of the day hit him, and he too fell asleep, still with his hand in the unruly brown hair.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope i can continue this thing properly,,


End file.
